Be Careful What You Wish For
by MissJesselle
Summary: A series of drabbles. Kirk and Spock, friendship. There's a tiny little bit of Spock/Uhura going on in the background.
1. Chapter 1

Be Careful What You Wish For

PART I

The Four Times Kirk and Spock Got on Each Other's Nerves

#1

The beeper at Jim's cabin sounded. He let the door whoosh open and came to face his First Officer who silently proffered a datapad.

Jim took it and glimpsed at it: "What? It's just a regular report."

"Is it?" Spock asked coldly. "I suggest you peruse it in its entirety – as you always do – correct?"

Jim returned to the text and really, at the bottom of the page in smaller print it read:

_I am an indolent, careless person who neglects his administrative duties which are a significant and inseparable part of my responsibilities as a Captain of a Federation flagship._

_Signed, James T. Kirk, Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise, …_

"What the hell is this?" Jim asked, angrily.

"I might as well make the same inquiry."

Realization dawned on Jim: "You _slipped_ this to me! To find out if I was reading the reports!"

Spock nodded: "I trust you have learnt your lesson."

"_Lesson? _Spock, if I had to read all the damn reports word to word I wouldn't be doing anything else!"

"That is quite an exaggeration. Moreover, as a Captain, you must set an example."

"To who? None of the other commanding officers read all the reports. _Nobody_ reads all the reports. That would be insane!"

"_I_ do." Spock said and with the last reproachful look, he took his datapad and turned to go, leaving Jim fuming at his door.

#2

If it did not entail admitting to harboring an emotional attachment to an abstract concept, Spock would say that he liked his job. And if it did not entail intensifying said non-existent attachment in a completely superfluous, illogical manner, he would say that he liked it a lot.

There were, however, certain bothersome elements that sometimes marginally but other times rather substantially detracted from the enjoyment of his work.

One of them was currently hovering around him, occasionally leaning forward to drum his fingers on the smooth surface of the science station.

"Captain, would you be so kind as to cease your fidgeting? I am attempting to finish the scanning."

"You keep saying that. But it still doesn't look like it's anywhere close to be done!"

"I could not foresee the perturbative components of the planet's atmosphere which are interfering with our sensors." Not to mention _your_ constant interference, Spock thought and then tried to stop himself form wallowing in emotion again, this time that of growing irritation.

"Spock, everybody's waiting for you to be done. I think I'm gonna give a green light to the landing party. It's not like it's an enemy planet or anything."

"Very well, if you insist on breaching the protocol and directly endangering 321 crew members - "

"But they sent us a welcoming transmission!"

" - not to mention the invaluable Starfleet property that the Enterprise is -"

"For God's sake they are members of the Federation!"

" - then by all means, go ahead," Spock finished. They stared at each other for a while. Then Kirk glanced around, noticing the inquisitive looks of the rest of the Bridge personnel, sighed, and waved his hand dismissively.

"Just finish the scanning."

#3

Once as a young boy, Jim went with his uncle to a Farm Days Exhibition where they had a two-headed calf on display. It was a strange, slightly unnerving sight.

Several years later, Jim was taken to a police station where he passed by a long storage room in which he saw rows and rows of robotic police officers, all identical and standing as if ready for action, only all _turned off_. That was a strange, slightly unnerving sight, too.

And some time after that, at Starfleet Academy, Jim met with an alien whose body was made of tentacles, swirling and undulating, with nothing even remotely resembling a face. Strange and unnerving as well.

But all of these strange and unnerving episodes combined didn't even begin to compare to the feeling he experienced when looking at Spock and Uhura together.

Because that just didn't add up, did it? He had been chasing after Uhura all throughout his Academy years, and he was handsome, awesome and supremely desirable and he was the_ Captain_ now, for God's sake. While Spock was, well -

"Ok, what is it?" he approached him one day when Spock was sitting conveniently alone in the Mess Hall.

"What is what, Captain?" Spock asked politely.

"What does she see in you? What do you have that I don't?" Jim fully expected Spock to pretend he didn't know what Jim was talking about, but Spock just looked at him, with amusement in his eyes, and half-shrugged:

"It must be the ears."

#4

As an attempt at reconciliation following some of their minor disputes, Spock decided to invite the Captain for a game of chess. With surprising readiness, Kirk accepted.

Thus they had enjoyed what were so far two pleasant and satisfying matches, pleasant because the necessity to focus on the game made Kirk forget to argue with Spock, and satisfying because Spock won both of them.

Alas, the serenity that chess provided for them was not to last.

"May I inquire as to what you just did?" Spock raised his eyebrow at Kirk's new rearrangement of the chess pieces.

"Us experts call it _castling, _Spock."

"I am aware of what a similar move is called, however, this does not qualify as castling, this is nothing, it is not allowed."

"How so? I hadn't moved either the rook or the king, there's free space between them -"

"The 'free space' is currently threatened by my queen. Therefore, you cannot perform the castling." Spock explained, a little impatiently.

"Oh really? Did you just make that up?"

"I did _not_ make it up, these are the rules of the game, if you cannot comply with them-"

"OK, whatever. I didn't _memorize _all the different tactics like you probably did …" Kirk turned his eyes upward with exasperation. "Go on, your turn."

"Put your king back to its place."

Kirk glanced at him: "No."

"No?"

"No. I castled it. It stays where it is."

"I told you it was an invalid move."

"And I disputed your assessment."

"Shall I look up the rules?"

Kirk shrugged: "Do whatever you want. I'm not moving my king back."

It was suddenly clear to Spock what Kirk's primary motivation was: "You yourself do no longer believe in the validity of your move. The only reason for your illogical refusal to revoke it is the fact that if it stays in its righteous place, I will have you in check in two moves."

Kirk shrugged again: "I didn't _know_ I couldn't do that. I still don't know. All I know is that I'm not putting my king back."

"I see. What you do anytime you are about to lose is simply change the rules. Or in other words, _cheat._"

This seemed to agitate Kirk, and he sneered: "Oh are we back at it again? Back at the whole 'I can't get over you beating my test' thing? Do you really have to bring this up all the time?"

"You _do_ keep supplying me with opportunities." Spock said, angered as well.

They glared at each other for a while.

Then Kirk took the king and the rook and put them back in their original places.

"Happy?"

"Naturally." said Spock and finished the game with a clean victory, as he had anticipated.

*****

_Thank you, Reader, please review._

_And I don't own Star Trek or anything._


	2. Chapter 2

PART II

The Two Times They Made an Ill-Thought Wish

#1

On their first shore leave, Jim headed, quite predictably, to a bar. He promised to himself to do his best to avoid inciting any kind of conflict that might lead into a brawl and to do his utmost super best to find himself a friendly companion for the night, if you catch his drift.

("I _always_ catch your drift," Bones had said tiredly. "Just don't come crying to me again that it hurts when you pee.")

So here he was now, sitting on a stool and chatting up an amicable Andorian boy with a big mouth, big bedroom eyes and cute little blue antennae on his head.

"So what do you do?" Jim slyly asked the question he wanted to be asked himself.

"Um, I kind of just … hang around. At the moment," the Andorian replied, shifting his gaze.

"Yeah, I've been there," Jim nodded in sympathy. "But I've got a job now – it's on a star -"

"Good evening, Jim."

Jim almost fell off the chair. He wheeled around and yes, Spock was standing there, looking neutral on the outside, but Jim would have bet his Starfleet badge that he was actually _smirking_ inside.

He decided to make the best out of a bad situation.

"Since when do you call me by my first name, Spock? You usually address me as -"

"We are on leave, are we not?" Spock interrupted him, as he always seemed to do.

"On leave from where?" the Andorian asked.

Spock looked at him, but instead of informing him of Jim's illustrious career, he turned back to Jim: "Is it not an Earth custom to introduce two individuals you are acquainted with to each other?"

_Damn you to hell_, _interfering bastard, _Jim thought and racked his brains for the Andorian's name. Laan? Lauan? Laban?

"Erm, this is Spock and this is, La-hem-hem-an." Jim faked coughing, but of course not even La-something was naïve enough for that.

"Lagan," the Andorian said, frowning at Jim, but when he looked at Spock, his face lit up: "Nice to meet you."

"My pleasure as well."

"You have really cool ears."

"I find your antennae quite fascinating."

_Damn you to hell and may you never return._

But of course Spock wasn't interested in one-night stands with strangers. Jim suspected Bones had set him up to make sure the Captain didn't get into trouble and Spock, who Jim supposed rejoiced - despite his lower rank - in bossing Jim around, agreed. Spock's next words crowned the evening:

"Perhaps it is time to go, Jim. You know the Doctor has been as of late rather reluctant to allow you to wander around on your own."

The Andorian gave Jim a weird look.

Jim suddenly began to dearly wish for a Space and Time Continuum rupture to open right where Spock was standing and suck the fucker into oblivion.

#2

Spock enjoyed working with Nyota, as she was one of the most devoted, responsible and meticulous beings he had ever known. Not to mention that he also very much enjoyed spending his leisure time with her, which included sharing meals, accompanying her singing on the Vulcan lute, entertaining her mind with intelligent conversation and various other even more pleasurable activities. He was confident that he could provide gratification to her on all levels.

Well, all levels except _one_:

"Watch this," Kirk said to no one in particular from the group sitting around the Mess hall table and tossed a raisin in the air, quickly trying to catch it with his mouth. He failed, but that didn't seem to discourage him from immediately making another attempt.

Nyota rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched. And not only once.

Spock had to struggle to prevent an unpleasant, stinging emotion from taking over him.

He was aware of the fact that the relations between Kirk and Nyota had significantly improved when the former had repeatedly proven his worth as a Captain. This was due to Nyota's willingness to readily appreciate any one's efficiency and self-discipline.

Spock was aware of the fact and _resented _it.

"Captain, is this necessary?" he addressed Kirk, with far too obvious irateness.

"Relax, Spock. I'm just trying to lighten up the atmosphere. Oh! That reminds me, I've got a riddle for you. Do you wanna hear it?"

Spock did not want to hear it. He wanted Kirk to pick all his raisins and ... leave the room.

But Kirk was already speaking again. And Nyota was watching him, with clear interest.

"Listen carefully, Spock. A little moron and a big moron are sitting on a wall, then the big moron falls off. Why doesn't the little moron fall off too?"

"Such riddles have no logic. I refuse to pointlessly preoccupy myself with searching for the answer." Spock all but gritted through his teeth.

"Because," Kirk made a dramatic pause, "he was a little more-on. Get it? _A little more-on._" He winked at Nyota: "It's a linguistic joke, actually."

She laughed.

Spock suddenly began to dearly wish for a Space and Time Continuum rupture to open right where Kirk was sitting and suck the troublesome individual into oblivion.


	3. Chapter 3

PART III

The One Time Their Wish Came True Albeit in a Somewhat Altered, Less Drastic and More Theatrical Manner

#1

"I keep telling you over and over again, Jim," the Chief Medical Officer grumbled, dabbing at Kirk's swollen watery eyes, "don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong. But do you ever listen to me? No."

His patient was quite a sight, in addition to the mess that was his eyes, his nose was unceasingly leaking yellowish mucus and there was red angry rash spreading all over his face and arms and presumably the whole body.

"I feel derrible Bodes," Kirk murmured, "derrible."

"Well that serves you just right for messing with those plants. How you managed to ace all your Survival Technics tests is beyond me." McCoy sprayed Kirk's face with a soothing solution. It didn't seem to have any effect.

"I suspekd de Capdain found some way around dem, no doud," Spock said from behind Nurse Chapel's caressing hands. He was sitting on the bed next to Kirk's and was a miserable picture himself, suffering from the same symptoms, except that the color of his rash was a vicious purple.

"Shuddup," Kirk advised him. "Id was your idea do smell de flowers."

McCoy turned to look at Spock: "Well I am disappointed in you, Mr. Spock. Whatever possessed you to do something so illogical?"

"I admid do having been quite fascinaded by dem," Spock conceded sadly.

"It also surprises me that the pollen seems to affect you in the very same way as this weak, delicate human," McCoy gestured toward Kirk, not being able to resist taking another jab at Spock; but at the same time, he handed the soothing solution bottle to Nurse Chapel, indicating that she spray the First Officer as well.

"Hey," Kirk protested feebly against being labeled as weak, but then he just lowered his head to his hands, resigned.

But McCoy was already taking his arm, leading him to the examination table on the other side of the room.

"Waid Bodes, nod so fast, I dold you I was feeling derri .. ble." Standing at the far end of the Sick Bay, Kirk straightened and frowned in sudden realization:

"Hey! I'm actually better now!" he exclaimed happily. "My eyes stopped burning and I can breathe again!"

"I am fortunate enough to report the same. The symptoms seem to be receding," Spock said from his place.

McCoy flipped up his tricorder and began scanning Kirk:

"Well, believe it or not, you _are _getting better. Miraculously quickly at that. And here I was, hoping that you two would finally get the punishment for all your wrongdoings ... come over here, Spock, so I can scan you too."

Spock nodded a thank-you at Nurse Chapel, who beamed at him brighter then a supernova, and obediently started walking toward Kirk and McCoy – but all of a sudden:

"Aaah," he stopped, clutching his head.

"Oww," Kirk mirrored. "Id's back! And even worse!"

"Alright, alright," McCoy intervened. "Looks like we were just a little too optimistic. Sit down now, for a minute." He steered Kirk into a nearby chair.

Spock, however, seeing no chair in his vicinity, made to return to Nurse Chapel and sit on the bed, but then -

"Hey! It's getting better again!" Kirk called out with renewed enthusiasm.

"The same can be said for myself," Spock confirmed.

"Really? Well get back over here, Spock, we have to do the scanning anyway," McCoy instructed him again.

So once more, Spock crossed the room, but as soon as he got close to Kirk:

"Aaargh! False alarm! Id's here again Bodes!"

Spock also grimaced in pain and turned to walk back where came from and -

"Wait! It's gone."

Spock stopped in his tracks and then changed his direction once more and headed toward Kirk and McCoy -

"Oh no! Id's back!"

Spock halted. He and Kirk just looked at each, the truth of the situation hanging in the air between them.

McCoy frowned: "OK. I hope I'm not the only who's starting to see a kind of pattern here."

And he wasn't.

Thus it transpired that the Captain and the First Officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise became allergic to each other, in the unpleasantly literal sense of the word.


	4. Chapter 4

PART IV

The Two Times Kirk and Spock Couldn't Be Together although They Very Much Wanted to as a Consequence of Their Ill-Thought Wishes which Made the Universe Punish Them with the Evil Space Pollen

#1

Due to recent unfortunate development, the functioning of the Enterprise had been rearranged to accommodate the First and Second's in Command need to avoid any contact with each other. Their duty shifts were rescheduled, Spock's personal quarters relocated to a different deck to minimize the possibility of a chance meeting between them in the corridors, several yeomen were tasked with monitoring their movement on the ship and if necessary, issuing a timely warning and two more took on the tiresome job of carefully disinfecting any place one of them had left and the other was about to occupy.

Jim was alone in his quarters, frowning on a particularly confusing memo and marveling at some people's ability to say something so simple in such a long-winded and complicated manner.

This only reminded him of his First Officer who would no doubt have no trouble dealing with paperwork and for all Jim knew he could very well enjoy it as his favorite past time. Yeah, he was that kind of person, always so annoyingly proper and meticulous – not to mention his highly irritating penchant for voicing his qualified opinion on every single problem that cropped up around the Enterprise and often didn't even belong into his area of expertise.

Although Jim couldn't recall a single occasion when Spock was actually _wrong_ about something. Because, come to think about it, he _did_ specialize in pretty much everything concerning the ship's business. He seemed to know about computers and programming, science and researching, command and organizing, strategy and planning, and especially administration and archiving.

OK, yes, Jim _could_ use his help right now; given that he didn't feel like spending the better part of the night squinting at this shining example of the impenetrability of Starfleet bureaucracy.

Not to mention that it wouldn't be half bad to just have someone to keep him company … not that Spock was a particularly good company, since he had zero sense of humor, of course, but it was true that Jim could talk to him about anything. Well, more like _argue_ about anything. Still, these were good arguments, not spiteful, but healthily competitive in a stimulating, almost in an entertaining kind of way.

_And_ Jim had to admit that because of the undeniable versatility of his, Spock was able to come up with a counter-argument to virtually anything Jim said and that was unusual to say the least, hence also very refreshing. And yes, _fine_, there _was _most often an undercurrent of humor hidden in Spock's comebacks, he was quite witty, in fact, you only had to pay close attention to his word choice – which not everyone did or could, considering the complexity of Spock's language, but Jim was learning to do so, as he was very intelligent himself and so he found the debates with Spock challenging, but also quite rewarding …

Besides talking, they could also play chess. Or he could tease Spock about Uhura or try to make it very hard indeed for Spock to suppress smiling with sudden surprise attacks of Jim's first class comedy talent.

Except that they couldn't do any of this. Unless they wanted to start itching all over and miserably ooze goo at each other in the process.

Oh, dammit.

Why, oh why, had he been such an idiot to let them get into the fucking space pollen shit?

#2

Dr. McCoy had been hard at work at creating some kind of antidote to their allergy, but so far, unfortunately, to no avail. The only reason Starfleet still kept Spock and Kirk both on the same starship was the fact that they were already deep in Space, far from any other Federation vessel or outpost that would facilitate the necessary replacements.

Since it was presently his turn to serve on the Bridge, Spock was sitting rigidly in the Captain's chair and illogically willing the hours left to the end of his shift to pass faster. He would have much rather be at the Science station, where he could always find many tasks to keep his mind occupied, preferably multiple intricate ones running simultaneously. He certainly did have the right to dismiss the officer who was now stationed there and assume his position, but it would be inadvisable to do so as it was not the main content of his current responsibility.

His first and foremost, and sadly, _only_, duty as a person who was at this moment highest in command on the Bridge was to keep everyone else busy. But they clearly quite well managed to do that themselves. Everyone and everything was working in perfect order and so there was no need for him to interfere. He tried to seek solace in dealing with the administrative matters, but he was done with all the reports far too quickly.

This left him just lounging there in the chair again, inwardly deploring his forced inactivity and trying to entertain himself with deriving the Specialized Warp Time Dilation equivalence in his head. Albeit redundant, this exercise would have sufficed to make him feel as if he was doing something worthwhile, had it not been for another disconcerting notion that was resting at the back of his mind and insistently pushing forward.

And it had nothing to do with his presumed uselessness. On the contrary, if this particular woe became reality it would have made him very hard at work indeed, more than anyone else on the bridge. What Spock worried about was an unexpected emergency taking place during his shift. An enemy attack for instance. He did not fear the danger as such, but rather the manner in which his decisions would influence it.

Spock was very confident in his ability to follow every regulation, to comply with every rule and deal correctly and efficiently with most of the complications he was confronted with on the Enterprise. But the one situation he no longer trusted himself well enough in was that of dire circumstances. The kind that did not require dutifully following rules as much as it did intuition and sometimes even improvisation.

Spock was excellent at quickly analyzing a problem and applying a solution according to a more or less fixed pattern. Of course, he was not a computer and was perfectly capable of adjusting his assessment in a manner that was perhaps less strictly rational, but more fitting to the many-layered real life conditions. Nonetheless, he feared making The Big Decision. He all to well remembered his brief position as the acting Captain of the ship – when he had made _all_ the bad decisions – and had no desire to repeat the experience.

He was aware of his weaknesses as much as of his strengths and so he spent a considerable part of the long hours of Kirk's forced absence on the Bridge wishing that Kirk was in fact _not absent_.

And to be quite honest with himself, Spock had to admit that it was not only during work that he regretted the fact that he and Kirk could not come within a couple of meters of each other without becoming incredibly strong, personified allergens to each other. Because playing chess against the computer – which was irritatingly predictable in its impeccably logical movements - was, well, _boring. _And not in the least satisfying.

How inconsiderate of Spock it had been to allow the two of them to be affected with the reprehensible space pollen!

*****

_Alright, this was kind of blah blah blah, but I'm gonna go for some action in the next part._

_Writing this, I thought about how all members of our favorite crew get all the interesting stuff happening while they are on duty together. So imagine if there are three shifts in a day and our guys and a gal get to serve only one of them, there are two more groups like this who are on the Bridge while the dream team is off duty. I bet they must be pretty pissed at having been so completely ignored for the past 43 years!_


	5. Chapter 5

PART V

The Two Times Describing How Kirk and Spock Realize There Exists a Cure for their Allergy

**#1**

Just when the weeks of Jim and Spock's isolation from each other were beginning to turn into months and the shadow of Starfleet intervention was becoming more and more ominous, Bones, God bless him, showed up on the Bridge one day during Jim's shift and announced that maybe, maybe he finally found something that might help.

It turned out that when he and Nurse Chapel were going through the records of the planet they were about to pass by in a few days - and it was likely that they would be ordered to send down an exploratory landing party - they spotted an interesting tidbit of information pertaining to the local flora. In short, the description of one of the plants native there fit perfectly to the kind Jim and Spock had encountered during their fatal beam-down together, down to the warning that it sprinkled pollen on the presumed predator when in danger.

"So, you're gonna get more samples for the development of the antidote?" Jim asked, feeling rather downhearted. They already _had _some of the original pollen which they had dusted off of their clothes.

"Nope," Bones said, wearing an impression suggesting that he was the Keeper of the Secret to the Universe, "something better. Tell me Jim, what color where the flowers that sprayed you?"

"Yellow," Jim repeated for a hundredth time, but Bones was already nodding, the eagerness to divulge whatever information he had glinting in his eyes.

"Well, guess what color these flowers are!"

"I assume it is _not _yellow? If you ask like this – Look Bones, if it there is something _substantial_ that you want to tell me, just do it, because I'm really getting tired of all this-"

"Purple! Bright purple!" Bones finally got to what he clearly considered to be the point of their conversation.

"Eh, great?" Jim still didn't come any closer to sharing the doctor's enthusiasm.

"Jim, incredibly, you are sometimes even dumber than you look. As you obviously lack any artistic talent, I'd like to break it to you that Purple is the opposite of Yellow," Bones began explaining patiently. "Taking into account what we know about the biological structure of the plants, it is safe to say that the different coloration of the plant means that the pollen also consists a different biotoxin. Since the yellow ones contain crocitoxin – that's the bad little guy responsible for your and Spock's hypersensitivity to each other showing on the outside – I think that the purple ones are made of punitoxin which should have the exact opposite effect. It hasn't yet been examined in such detail, but given your natural predisposition to get yourself into the deepest shit possible and then against all odds fly out of it clean and unharmed, I am positive that it's gonna work. All you and Spock gotta do is beam down, find the purple blooms and stick your noses in them. That should do the trick and cancel out the allergy."

Well, fantastic was an understatement for how _this_ sounded to Jim, but he couldn't help shaking off the feeling that it also seemed suspiciously simple.

**#2**

"... and that means you won't have to be transferred from the Enterprise, Mr. Spock," Nurse Chapel finished relaying the details concerning the purple plants which presumably held the cure for the allergy.

"Thank you for taking the time to enlighten me to the subject. The information you offered appears most promising," Spock told her.

She smiled at him: "Oh that was my pleasure. Besides, it's really easy to explain something to you, Mr. Spock, you always understand everything so quickly. I would be so happy to talk with you about any other thing any time!"

Spock had no idea how to react to compliments and suggestive remarks so he settled for his customary reply which did not convey much meaning – especially pronounced without any defining inflection – but at least gave him something to say:

"Indeed."

Then he quickly left the Sick Bay to where he had been summoned, leaving Nurse Chapel behind, looking somewhat disappointed.

It was necessary to begin planning the beam-down. Spock hoped the planet really held the antidote and that it would solve all the numerous problems caused by the pollen-induced allergy, both professional and personal.

He sat down to his computer console, opening the Outer Space Planets Compendium in order to brush up on his knowledge about the place they were going to visit.

The planet's name was Senexis VIII and it used to be a home to a variety of animal forms which had evolved to be of giant growth which had been fueled by the plentiful vegetation and spacious terrain and also to possess extraordinary intelligence so that they could – and here the Compendium authors made a peculiar assessment – entertain themselves?

Be that as it may, all the gigantic fauna was effectively destroyed by the planet's collision with an asteroid which incited a cataclysmic change of the climate and all that was left were some of the more adaptable small animal species and the more resistant flora. Fortunately for them, the desired 'Senexis purple pollen-spraying flowers' – named simply just that - were among the survivors.

Spock was now not only anxious to finally rid himself of the bothersome allergy, but also to satisfy his curiosity by exploring this undeniably fascinating planet.

The fact that his fascination with the Senexis flowers' yellow counterparts had got him and Kirk into the very predicament they were currently trying to solve did not seem particularly relevant to him.


	6. Chapter 6

PART VI

One Exciting Adventure

**#1**

"I'll go North and you go South!" Jim shouted to Spock as soon as they had been beamed down onto the planet Senexis VIII into a safe enough distance from each other so as to keep their allergy at bay.

Spock simply nodded in agreement and turned around, setting out to search for the purple flowers. Jim went in the opposite direction, across vast meadows covered in blue-green growth and here and there speckled with tiny yellow and white blossoms. Occasionally, a little rat-like animal streaked away through the blades of grass, alarmed by his steps. He kept scanning his surroundings for any sign of purple, but so far with no success.

He had walked for forty-five minutes, the landscape around him unchanging, before he decided to call Scotty and tell him to beam down more people to different places on the planet so they would have a better chance of finding the flowers. Apparently, they weren't quite as common as Bones had made them seem to be.

He walked up a small mound, flipped out his communicator and – suddenly lost the ground beneath his feet as the grassy surface underneath gave way and he fell through into a kind of underground cavern. He blinked into the semi-darkness, scrambled into a position on all fours and felt around for the communicator he'd dropped. Luckily, his hand soon closed around the familiar rectangular shape.

But before he could lift it from the ground, something else closed around his hand with the communicator. Something strong, slimy and gelatinous. Startled. he lifted his eyes to find out if this was as bad as he thought. And it was: a giant unshapely creature towered above him, seeming to study him with its four protruding eyes. So much for the Compendium's guaranteed information that the biggest living form on Senexis was a twenty-centimetre-long rodent.

The creature most closely resembled a slug with tentacles, although a regular slug would need at least a thousand years to feed on greens to grow into such size. But then, he didn't know how old this one was. Nor was it the most crucial topic to ponder at the moment.

There was not much he could think about doing, but the really important thing _not_ to do was panic.

Which was pretty hard judging from the fact that the creature still clutched his hand in its tentacle. To his horror, he felt it being sucked inside until his whole forearm was lost in the gelatinous matter. He tried to pull back but to no avail, the slug was obviously much stronger than him. The communicator slipped from his fingers and disappeared deep into the tentacle.

Time to do something, _anything._ Since he had no chance of succeeding in using force, he would have to try something else to distract the creature's attention. A desperate thought occurred to him as his free hand fell on a stone. No point throwing it at the slug, it wouldn't even notice it, small as the stone was, and it would just sink inside like the communicator anyway. And it was too dark to take aim at one if its eyes and he didn't want to risk aggravating it. But maybe -

"Hey! Do you play catch?" he shouted at the slug. "Look what I've got! Catch!"

And he threw the stone into the darkness behind the creature. No reaction. Well, of course there wasn't any. Slugs were stupid. And they probably couldn't even hear and just responded to tremors or something – and the stone was really way too small to shake the ground.

All of a sudden, the slug's gigantic mouth started undulating and a thundering voice came out:

"Excuse me, but I don't participate in such silly games."

Jim stared at the slug, utterly perplexed: "What."

"As I said, I don't participate in such silly games," the slug repeated.

Well, that was just crazy. First, he gets sprayed by flowers that make him break an embarrassing rash when close to his First Officer, then, trying to find cure for said affliction, he is trapped in a cave by a giant talking slug. Jim really couldn't wait to start writing his memoirs.

"Uh, what?"

"I see you clearly aren't the brightest of bipedal mammals. And I had hoped – Never mind, at least you'll serve me as a protein-rich dinner," the slug said and made a horrifying smacking sound.

"Wait!" Jim exclaimed, swiftly recovering from his high state of amazement. "Just wait! Let's talk!"

Buy time, that was all he'd have to do. When he was gone for two hours and Scotty couldn't reach him through the communicator, he'd just beam him back aboard. That was what they'd agreed on.

"Hm ..." the slug considered. "I admit that I have been alone for a long time ..."

"Oh really? Well, sorry about that." _Just keep talking and keep_ him _talking._ "Aren't there any other – um, of your kind around?"

"No," albeit forceful and resounding, the tone of the slug's voice sounded genuinely sad. "They all died when the asteroid fell. I'm the only one left. We used to have so much fun together, me and my friends, and now I'm all alone."

An absurd image of a group of humongous slugs frolicking in the meadows flashed through Jim's mind. He quickly suppressed a smile which probably wouldn't be the best reaction to the death of all sentient beings on Senexis. Instead he said:

"Oh, I read about that. Only I assumed it had happened hundreds of thousands of years ago."

"And you were right, I'm nine-hundred thousand years old."

"Wow, well that's a nice round number, isn't it? Um, so ..." Jim quickly sifted through possible questions he could ask. Despite the fact that his arm was still half-sucked into the tentacle, the slug didn't seem to be so keen on sucking in _all_ of him. Yet. "So, what did you guys do for fun?"

"I'm glad you ask the question. I was about to mention it, anyway. We simply entertained each other by telling stories," the slug said, a haze of melancholy glazing over his four eyes. Or maybe Jim was reading too much into the creature's facial expressions.

"Really? Well, that sounds great!" And it really did. All Jim would have to do before Scotty saved him was tell the slug a cute little human fairy-tale or two. Hopefully, Spock would just find the flowers by himself. "Do you wanna do it now? The story-telling? I know a couple good ones, you know."

"Thank you for being so eager, but you'd have to do it anyway since I'm the one of us who can eat the other and will, if he finds him boring," the slug reminded Jim of his superior status. "Go ahead then, I'm listening."

So Jim began telling the first children story that popped into his mind: "Once upon a time there were three little pigs and -"

Unexpectedly, the slug interrupted him: "I see. Is a wolf involved?"

"Well, yeah ..."

"I already know this one."

Alright, a different one then: "Once there lived a girl who had really mean stepsisters and an even meaner stepmother-"

"I see. Is a prince involved?"

Ok, no problem, he would just have to try something other than simple fairy-tales. Although how the slug knew stories from a different planet was a mystery. Nonetheless, he started narrating again:

"Once there were some shepherds in the fields and one night they saw a bright star in the sky. It turned out that it signaled -"

"The birth of their savior?"

Fine, how about some popular culture?

"In a galaxy far far away -"

"I know, I know, and then Luke finds out Darth Vader is his father," the slug said , sounding just a tad irritated. But Jim could deal with that because there were _millions_ of other tales he could tell. Only he somehow couldn't think of any right now, except for -

History. Yes, history. An endless number of stories in there.

"Once there was a king who wanted to divorce his wife but the Pope disagreed-"

"And so he established his own religion."

_Endless number of stories._

"Once there was a President who was getting ready for re-election and wanted to know what the other political party was up to-"

"Yes, yes, and the former secret agents broke into the Democrats' offices," the slug said dismissively, sounding bored.

Well, that was enough.

"Listen – are you putting me on? Are you reading my mind or what? There's no way you can know all the damn stories from a planet thousands of light years away!"

"I'm not, and frankly, I don't care what you think. Trust me, I would like to hear a new story very very much. And of course, your survival depends on it," the slug finished on a menacing note and then added: "Well, I'm waiting."

_What's taking so long, beam me away already!_ Jim beseeched Scotty's talent for doing the right thing at the dramatically most peaked moment. But nothing happened. Well, even if Spock does find the flowers, he won't need them since the only allergen will have been digested by a giant slug.

But then, as it often happened, an idea how to easily solve a hopeless situation occurred to Jim just in the nick of time:

"What about this one – do you know the one about the starship Enterprise?"

The slug narrowed all its eyes: "What kind of starship?"

"One that was sent on a five year mission to seek life and new civilizations." And deal with over-demanding, petulant slugs.

"Hm. I'm not sure I've heard this. Well go ahead, tell the tale."

So Jim did. Meanwhile, the two hours of his stay on the surface must have passed and maybe it had already been three hours, or longer, when he began to approach the most recent events: "And so they beamed down on the planet to look for the purple flowers …"

He'd just have to make something up and drag it on – but for how long? What was going on up there? Couldn't they lock onto his coordinates or was there a different problem? How the hell was he going to make the slug let him go?

But then, just when he was beginning to lose all hope, a familiar tingling feeling enveloped him.

"What's this? What's going on?" the slug bellowed, his eyes widening at the sight of the bright transporter beams. "Don't go! You have to finish the story!"

But the last sentence was uttered into the silence of a cavern which was once again occupied by the slug alone.

*****

*****

_Thank you, Reader, please review._


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